I believe that narcissism is the root of all evil. Yes, I’m blaming it all on narcissism. One simple, yet complicated natural human inclination. It all comes down to narcissism. All of it.

Don’t believe me? You want to debate? I love debating once my thoughts are organized. When they’re organized, you’ll see my reasoning is logical. But I still love a good debate. Bring it.

How should I begin this entry? With shedding light on duality? Or with writing about our survival instincts? Or should I take a nap while listening to an audiobook on my massage table?

I’ve been looking forward to this nap since yesterday, so I’m going to choose the nap. I’ll write more tonight when I get home.

I feel a whopper of a transfixed post alighting my fingertips. I see patterns and inspiration everywhere, which indicates mental illness. Sane people are boring. I choose crazy.

************

It’s now the next day and nope, I didn’t write last night. Some whopper of a post that turned out to be. Pfff…..

I had a crazy dream last night and awoke to understanding a little more about this mind of Mel. And I really am crazy, but not more so than others.

Shit is wack. Wack I say!

I’m jaded and cynical to the point of foregoing any trust in others. All I can see is my perspective and what I perceive as truth, the only truth. The only thing that’s valid and makes sense.

Let’s pretend that Amy was telling me the truth (read last post). That I really was hanging all over that truck driver and Zack. From her perspective (according to her), she had to look out for me and worry about me, which is apparently grounds for termination. I’m not worth the trouble or drama.

From my perspective, we were having fun that night. So logically, according to my perspective, what she says makes no sense (to me).

Let’s not take into account that this is just one of the many fights we shared. Let’s not factor in that she replicates every bullet point of the standard emotional abuse model. And we were fine after this particular fight. We even spent New Years together as though none of it happened.

Let’s forget all that, and try to see things from her perspective, that is, if I can allow myself to trust her. To empathize with her.

I recently learned (last night) that trust is a big determining factor into understanding and empathizing with someone. It’s not love, it’s trust. Trusting their point of view as being valid. And if their point is valid, than yours must be wrong – or so my theory goes. Our ego’s protect our beliefs by avoiding empathy – especially when it’s shows us a wrong we made. It’s an inherent survival skill (I’ll get into that later).

Anyway, I’m trying to focus on empathy here. Finding a connection and understanding Amy’s perspective – this is the opposite of narcissism. When people feel for others, it’s evils antagonist. When we trust each other, it’s the antithesis of selfishness.

I met her at that little restaurant with nothing but the kindest intentions of wanting to mend things. I told her how I have trouble expressing my emotions, and I should’ve told her that what she was doing felt like emotional abuse. But instead of telling her how I felt, I let things deteriorate thinking that everything will be okay. Always okay, like in my science fiction fantasy world.

Me – “I let Zack in my head. He’s the one that pointed out the abuse and after he said that, it’s all that I saw. Every indicator was there.”

Amy – “Zack’s homeless and schizophrenic now.”

I have to find out if this is true.

Me – “Oh no poor Zack!”

She said it with no remorse or kindness. She said it in a laughable, snide way.

Zack is now on my list of people I need to reconnect with. He basically confessed his love for me at that party we went to, and I blew him off. He’s super cute, intelligent, caring, but all I saw was his age. He’s around 26 or so, way below my cut-off time. I blew him off which leads into more bad karma added to my plethora of shit luck.

Anyways, that’s off topic.

I’m trying defiantly hard to empathize with Amy, but I can’t see it. All I can see are half-spoken truths. What should it matter if I was talking to those men? She was right there laughing beside me – not for a minute did she feel excluded or under-appreciated.

No matter how hard I try to blame myself, I can’t see anything I did wrong. I can’t change myself for the better if I can’t see my faults. My damn ego is too intact – too full of itself to ever understand. It’s thick, full, and lush – as copious as my 700 blog posts.

The bigger the vocab, the bigger the ego.

So anyway, I tried. I’m a bastard.

That dream I had last night showed me how much my perception narrows without empathy, understanding, and trust. By me being cynical all the time, limits my ability to trust others, which in turn impedes my ability to have compassion. It impedes my ability to understand. And thus cycling back into my narrow rigid perspective.

Not being able to empathize with Amy, showcases my skills at distrust and seeing only my point of view. Can you see how trust and empathy play off each other?

The dream illustrated to me that true awareness is the act of defying narrow perspectives. To stop from being cynical all the time, and learn trust.

This is the first time I’m able to understand that trust is compassionate. They’re star-crossed lovers amid a foray of self-inflicted obstacles. One can not work without the other.

This is the part where my dream from last night blows my mind. From Amy’s perspective, she IS telling the truth.

People can only believe what they have previously experienced. Their ego restricts them from seeing outside themselves (hence narrowing perspective). They believe only in that which they can understand. I know this for a fact because I see it happening with myself – shit is crazy!

I can only believe and see what I already understand. I can only understand the things I’ve experienced.

Denial and confabulations – all the stuff that holds the ego intact, morphs history. It’s a way for us to control ourselves, control the past, control the present. Control what our children learn and read about.

Our true selves remain hidden, a mystery. Something to be forgotten and buried. Never to be faced and understood, but avoided and sometimes labeled as a transient evil (depending on severity) – and this “evil” will find a face to blame because we can never blame ourselves.

(I’m about to ramble and transfix for a while, just hang in there with me.)

We fear what is hidden (that’s why we place blame). Whatever is hidden inside us will be projected onto others. Your own fear, the stuff that remains hidden, karma is a bitch when you project it on others. A real bitch. And you will project it.

Why does this happen?

It’s a universal law. Our only mission on this planet is to evolve spiritually. It doesn’t matter how we do it, just that it happens. And every piece of the puzzle fits. Every person, every situation, all that exists and did exist, fits into an unforeseen celestial plan. Gods will, if you…..will.

I was only able to see how everything fits while I was under ayahuasca, but the memory of it is still there. Human beings wouldn’t exist if even the smallest element was missing, smallest degree away from the sun, smallest evolutionary leap – the smallest anything, we would not be here. The miracle of us being here proves to me that everything happens for a reason. Why should our personal lives be any different?

Read Bill Bryson’s A Brief History of Nearly Everything, and you’ll understand what I mean.

Nothing we do matters, only growth matters. All that happens in-between birth and death is fodder.

While karma is at work, there is no clean thought. No clear thought, no recollection of any details that prove our maliciousness, our envy, our indifference – we see none of that. I know this because it happened to me. I don’t remember half the shit people tell me I did.

We can only see what we understand, the things that we choose to believe. Which brings me to duality.

I was all fired up yesterday with wanting to write about duality. I saw a faint glimmer of its importance in juxtaposition to ego.

Narcissism is the product of ego, and no, it’s not evil. I shouldn’t have said it was evil – but it’s what we consider evil to be. In all actuality, it’s necessary.

Why is narcissism evil?

Anything that lacks empathy or compassion is seen as evil. Anything that derives pleasure from people’s pain, is evil. If you’re the one causing the pain, that gives you power. Power ensures the ego’s survival. Ego is a tool we use to survive in this world. It’s laced with fear, doing anything it takes to breathe one last breath.

Narcissism is the heart of ego. Entire communities, high-profile families, countries, races, religions – all can embody a narcissistic mob mentality world view. Not to mention corporations, political figures, anyone who claims themselves as “saintly”. Anyone who claims to be anything, has ego.

Especially if they claim to be good and “saintly.”

BULL

SHIT

Despite what I say, ego is just as divine as compassion. We wouldn’t be able to know compassion without it. It’s that which defines. Ego is identity.

So, yeah. Duality is cool…..

But…..this is where people trip up….

We don’t know ourselves – we are unable to see who we are and what we do. The ego shrouds our eyes. If we don’t see the duality, if we haven’t experienced both perceptions, we can only see and know ego (our baser instincts).

If we’re unable to see our own cruelty, we will never grow, never evolve, never learn what compassion is.

So basically the whole premiss of this post is to tell you that empathy is a way of broadening our awareness and that we can only empathize if we learn to trust each other.

We can only understand as far as our experience allows – this doesn’t mean that others perspectives aren’t valid. It’s just that we can’t see it. We haven’t experienced what they experienced.

I failed to empathize with Amy. I’m not there yet. I’m not enlightened enough to have all understanding and compassion flow through me. I can still get hurt, and as long as I still hurt, I’m attached to my ego, to identity, to fear, shallowness, and living in my science fiction fantasy world where everything is honky dory.

All done out of self-preservation. For survival. So I can breathe and live to write another day.